It was Five weeks after Mimi's death, and still Roger didn't come out of his room. By that time Joanne and Maureen were less frequent visitors to the loft, their time taken up with earning food money, Rent was forgiven until after Mark was well and back in the loft, and caring for Mark. It wasn't easy for he had physical therapy every other afternoon, and taking him via subway wasn't exactly easy.
Collins had a steady routine now, everyday he would leave the apartment for precisely and hour, during which Roger would leave his room to grab the breakfast that Collins laid out and to shower. Upon Collins' return he would lay on the couch, which was now moved directly in front of Rogers door, and read or write until 5 when one of the girls would bring up dinner. Collins would again disappear for an hour before eating his own dinner.
Inside Rogers room his mood varied. Most times it was silent, and Collins should know because he was in front of the door almost 24-7. Sometimes in Roger's room though there could be heard large crashes, as books and other items were thrown about in grief. Sometimes he would howl, and Collins would wonder for his sanity, but no matter, Collins would wait it out. Roger never actually spoke anything, but Collins knew what was best to do, for he remembered when Angel died.
"Oh Angel..." It was said out loud by Collins at least a 100 times a day, there was always something that would remind him of her, whether it was seeing a table that Angel had danced on, a red coat that reminded him of her Santa outfit, or just someones carefreeness and caring for others. Collins loved her with all his heart, there wasn't anything he wouldn't have done for her, including die. But Angel had made that clear right away at the end that she didn't want him to die for her, no she wanted him to live as long as possible, to love others and help them as much as possible, and to remember her. It was impossible for him to forget her.
At the beginning Collins thought of Roger as a way to help others as Angel would have wanted, but it changed into something more. The more he heard Roger's own grief, never expressed by his music, the more genuine compassion and connection he felt with the musician. For though they had never exactly been close, they both had had, and lost, the type of love that most people only dream of. Collins knew he was lucky and was glad he was strong enough to handle his Love's death; but was Roger? He didn't know.
The first actual communication between the two of them happened after the sixth week, at midnight. Collins was sleeping on the couch, closer to dozing then actually sleep, when he heard Roger open the door. He carefully watched Roger underneath his hooded eyes as Roger made his way to the bathroom. Watched as Roger went in and locked the door. It was when the lock clicked that Collins sat up, fearful for him, and carefully walked up and placed his ear on the door. He could hear Roger sobbing, something that hadn't been done before now, and he heard a lot of crashing. Before it fell silent. Scared now, Collins stayed perfectly still, not even breathing less Roger hear him eves dropping. Finally not being able to stand it any longer Collins raises his hand to knock on the door, and just that moment Roger chooses to pull the door open, pitching Collins head first into the bath room, right into Roger.
Roger slammed down onto the cold tile with Collins on top of him, both of them scrambling to get up and out of the way. Finally Roger looks at Collins, whose standing by the door of the bath room staring at him, waiting for him to say something. When Collins doesn't say anything Roger starts fuming. Suddenly the next thing Collins knows is that Roger has pushed him to the ground and run back into his room.
Roger is in his room, yelling again and throwing things. Its a mystery as to whether or not anything in that room is intact any more. Finally it settles down and Collins lays back on the couch, he falls dead asleep.
When Collins awakes theres a note laying on his chest. He picks it up carefully and opens the folded page. It only has a few words, written in a chicken scratch that makes him flinch to read, it says:
"Damn it Collins. You threw out my razors. I need to shave my beard. Fuck you!"
Collins grins as he reads this and goes downstairs to show it to the girls.
Authors note: Yeah I forgot, I own nothing. Deal with it.
And thanks for the reviews!